Before Neverland
by TrappedLittlEm
Summary: From a youth to an adult. How one child became the man a whole land feared... Captain James Hook, for your delectation.
1. Chapter 1

_**I have always loved Hook. Peter Pan is fine mind you, but he would be nothing without the notorious Captain James Hook. This will be a fairly lengthy fanfiction if the response is there to this. Which I am hoping it will be. I appreciate constructive criticism - not just slander.  
Character of Hook is not my own - however I am taking artistic licence with him in part. I hope you enjoy. [Littlem]**_

James had not always had a bad temper as such, more that people had a way of riling him up so easily. His temper came from his father, everyone could have been certain of that. James senior had a foul temper, and had on many occasions taken out his rage upon the young James to such an extent that the boy could barely stand. His mother Emily also bore the wounds of fights with the senior James in scars on her body- but she would deny their existence or that her husband had inflicted those wounds upon her.

The fight had begun when one of the boys in his school had begun teasing his curly hair. Henry was one of the elder boys in the school and as such had an air of arrogance about his that made James's blood boil even without anything else being necessary. 6 feet tall and with shoulders and an ugly face, Henry towered above most boys, aside James. James was taller in fact but not built in quite the same way as the youth throwing insult after insult his way.

He swung at him and clocked him hard across the jaw- James could've sworn he heard a crunch as his clenched fist touched the face of his opponent. After the first punch nothing could be recalled- he only knew how much damage was done when he was sat in the Headmasters office, with his father by his side, being told how broken the other boy was.

" I've never seen anything quite so ghastly in all my years of teaching. This kind of behaviour cannot be tolerated _Sir_. I hope you can understand why I am asking you to remove him from my school."

James looked at his father and saw the sheen of red wash over him as his father stood slowly. The wooden chair scrapped across the floor and the boy shuddered a little at the harsh sound.

" Regrettably I do understand, and this sort of behaviour is not tolerated in my house and should not be in this school either. Come now James we are leaving, pick up your bag boy."

His father never sounded this calm at home, why should he put on the façade in front of his Headmaster is all James could think as he picked up his bag and followed his father from the lavishly decorated office and headed through the dark corridors of the school. He looked down and winced as his father placed a hand on his shoulders clenching slightly as if to make him walk faster, pressuring him to leave his school.

"James, why would you do this to us? Disgrace your family in a manner so appalling. Your mother and I are so disappointed…"

James disappeared back into his own thoughts after that as he and his father walked home. He wanted to run, run as fast as his legs could carry him somewhere far away from the cold, dreary streets. He wanted sunlight, clear skies and freedom. He looked longingly into the park he passed every day. Yet today the park seemed to gleam brighter, it looked more appealing than ever.

" You're not even **listening** to me James!"

His father had his wrist seized tightly now and was glaring down at his- the red mist firmly over his fathers face- and all James could do was stare back…

His fate for this evening was now assured…


	2. Chapter 2

_**Something quite short as an interlude piece.** _

The beating had taken off a layer- if not two- from his back, he was sure of it. His ribs were bruised, his stomach cramping hard. His father had never beaten him quite like this. This was brutal; his mother had even started crying as she watched, even if she had done nothing to stop him.

Well, why would she? She may be his mother, but unless she wanted his rage to be on her she knew better than to intervene.

James had not shed a tear the entire time. He hadn't cried, whimpered or even cowered. He was used to the feeling of pain. It had stopped fazing him. He just accepted his punishment, noting though how it felt harsher than usual.

Most young boys would have not only cried during the ordeal, but would have protested and screamed until no more words could escape their cowering bodies. But even from a youth James was different.

He had taken note of for how long it had lasted, how many lashes with the cane he'd had, how many closed fists too the chest. More than ever before he noted. He had started writing it down in a journal seven months previous. Just as an extra thing to do to occupy his time...

Though there was something else that he would rather be doing... More than anything.


End file.
